Today would've been Kurt Cobain's forty-fifth birthday. As a high school friend wrote today: "Happy birthday Kurt Cobain. I miss your future very very much--all the things that could have been...Sigh."
In the sun, in the sun I feel as one/In the sun, in the sun/Married, buried
Santiago Ramos at the end of August last year in a piece he called Defending Kurt Cobain's Sadness wrote: "We love Nirvana, and Kurt Cobain, because his sadness was human, and his music was a moving expression of that very human sadness. He was an extreme case, sure. And he was no Camus or Mahler or whatever. But he commanded the loyalty of millions of fans because he expressed something real in a way that in certain moments was beautiful. Whether we like it or not, we have more than a few things in common with Kurt Cobain."
Somehow I don't think Cobain ever really grasped this "all" that we are, though I do think he was struck by the mystery of his I, just not knowing to really discover or really unveil it.
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